


Exit

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [53]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Frank Discussion of Sexism in the Workplace, Frank Discussion of Team Dynamics, Irritated Hotch, M/M, Mean Girl JJ, Not PC, Team Dissension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch conducts JJ's exit interview.  JJ isn't holding back.  Neither is Hotch.</p><p>As it says in the warnings, this is not a PC story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exit

**Author's Note:**

> 'Nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy'  
> Polish - Not my circus, not my monkey.

“Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” – Oscar Wilde 

“Thanks for coming in so early. Sit down. We’ll make this as quick and painless as possible,” Hotch murmured, rooting through folders and selecting the one he needed. JJ marched to the chair which waited for her. She sat down, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared hard at Aaron Hotchner. There was distrust in her face, which Hotch expected, but there was also deception, which he could not fully explain. 

“First I need to ask if you would prefer to have your exit interview conducted by a different agent,” Hotch continued, raising his eyes and waiting. JJ sneered at him. 

“Do you mean by Dr. Lind? I saw her by the coffee machine. No. I have even less desire to talk to her than I have to talk to you. Let’s get this done and over with,” Jareau insisted impatiently. 

“All right. Fair enough.” 

“Why would I want to talk to her? She hung me out to dry over nothing. You didn't even try to stop her.” 

Hotch looked down at the folder that he held, at the rebuttal that he had written in JJ's defense. Yes, he had tried to help, but it had done him no good. 

“Agent Rossi offered himself as a neutral option, if you do not wish for this exit interview to be conducted by Dr. Lind or by me,” Aaron said. 

“Like Rossi would understand my side either? No, thank you.” 

“Very well,” Hotch answered, straightening the pages. “The purpose of the exit interview is to gauge your opinions and feelings of the day-to-day operating procedures of the position that you are leaving.”

“I know what an exit interview is. You can skip the intro. I’ve done one before, remember?” Jareau muttered. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve got a plane to catch in two hours.”

“Yes, of course. I heard you were accepted at the Los Angeles office. That’s terrific. They’ll love you there. You’ll fit right in. But why the West Coast?”

“It’s as far away from here as I can get.”

“No openings in Alaska?” Hotch joked awkwardly. The humor fell very flat. “Will got a job with the LAPD—that’s great too. You’ve already found a house, and an excellent private school for Henry. Sometimes a change of scenery can be very good for an agent who is struggling or stagnating in their current location.”

JJ sneered at his words. “You can stop pretending that you care. I know you can’t wait to see me leave.” 

Hotch cleared his throat and shuffled pages. 

“JJ, that’s not true.” 

JJ rolled her eyes and barked, “Can we get on with this?” 

Hotch closed the folder, resting his hands on top. “JJ, I am sorry, and I do care. I blame myself.” 

“You should. It’s your fault.”

“You're right. It is. I was too concerned about being your friend. I was too concerned about sparing your feelings. I didn’t want to add to your stress level or your resentment level either. I can see now that if I had been more firm with you when you first started getting out of line, you wouldn’t have carried on this way for so long, and you wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. I have failed you as your supervisor agent, and as your friend. I’m sorry for that. Truly sorry,” Aaron murmured. 

JJ crossed her arms tighter and looked away from him. Feelings of regret and resentment flittered across her face. “I don’t want or need your goddamn apologies. Get on with it.” 

Hotch cleared his throat again, and found his place. 

“Agent Jareau, what is your primary reason for leaving your current position?” 

“My boss is an antiquated caveman who’s stuck in the 50’s.”

Hotch set the pages down on his desk with a thump. 

“Agent Jareau, you know as well as I do that I have to submit your answers for review. They will go in your permanent file. Your future supervisory agents will have access to your file. It would be better for both of us if you could be less hostile in your responses.”

“You want me to lie to cover your ass?” she mocked. 

“No, I don’t want you to lie. You should be completely honest. But I’m also cautioning you that hostile responses won’t inflict as much damage on me as they might inflict on you. I know you’re angry, but please be aware your responses may have bearing on future employment in the Bureau."

“Gender bias isn’t going to be an issue any longer. My new boss is a woman.” 

“Agent Vaccaro. I know her. Yes. Do you want to revise your answer to the question?”

"Oh, you're friends?" JJ worried. 

"No. We worked together on a case or two when I was based in Seattle." 

"Oh." 

"Do you want to revise your answer?" Hotch hoped. 

“I was asked to step down because my supervisor doesn’t like women, and the new section chief has a grudge against me,” JJ frowned.

“That’s actually what you want me to write?” Aaron checked. 

“That’s my answer," JJ frowned. 

Hotch hesitated again. “Agent Jareau, you are aware that the sworn statements and formal complaints from Chief Sudbrink, Janeen Morrow, and Chief Master Sergeant LaFlamme have all been added to your permanent file? As well as Dr. Lind’s written report on the incident at the roadblock, and your other actions while on the Gorsuch case? The reason you were asked to step down from your position with the BAU will be more than clear to anyone who reads those complaints.” 

“I’m sure Dr. Lind made herself and Reid look as good as possible. She is being nice to him to butter you up. She's got as much of a gender bias as you have." 

“JJ, this honestly has nothing to do with your gender. You were asked to step down because of reckless behavior and blatant insubordination. You came within three inches of blowing Dirk Morrow’s head off. If you had killed the hostage, he would have lost control of the car he was driving. It could have flipped, and you could have subsequently killed Gregory Gorsuch. Any number of fellow law enforcement officers also might have been injured. You damaged a multi-million dollar Department of Defense helicopter. You struck their hydraulics lines. They had to limp back to base. You were asked to hold your fire more than once, more than twice, but you continued to discharge your weapon. You disobeyed a direct order from your section chief and from the officer in charge of the scene.” 

“I know what’s going on here. I’m not stupid. This has nothing to do with Maine. It's just the excuse you and Dr. Lind are using against me. You’ve been holding me back from the start,” JJ accused. 

“What?” Hotch blinked in disbelief. 

“This has been building for a long time. You’ve always treated me differently from the others.”

Hotch lost his temper for a moment, and howled, “Are you serious?” 

“I can do anything they can do – Morgan, Reid, Rossi. I’m a better agent than any of them. But you are never going to see that, because you can’t look past my gender. It’s time to move on to a place where I will be appreciated.” 

Hotch took a deep breath in order to calm himself. “I’m truly sorry if I’ve ever given you the impression that you were anything other than a trusted friend and colleague.” 

“Are there copies of my formal complaints against you and against Dr. Reid in my file?” JJ sneered. 

“Yes, your formal complaints are here,” Hotch confirmed, flipping pages and back again. “Shall we continue?”

“Did you read the complaints I filed?” 

“Yes, I read them,” Hotch answered, eyes narrowing. JJ seized on his anger and prodded again. 

“Don’t you have anything to say about the complaints?” 

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to respond directly to you concerning your complaints. My supervisor ordered me to follow all formal channels with my responses. I have written an official rebuttal to your sexual discrimination and gender bias accusations, and I have filed that rebuttal with the appropriate internal office. If my supervisors decide your accusations deserve further investigation, they will contact you. Could you answer the questions, please?”

“What about Reid?”

“What about him?” Hotch snapped. He couldn't help it. The gleeful smirk on JJ's face made Hotch angry. When Reid had received the copy of JJ's formal complaint against him, he had retreated emotionally. Walls had gone up which Hotch was going to have to work long and hard to bring back down. 

"Did he respond?" JJ grinned, clearly salivating to know. 

"Reid responded through official channels, as he was advised to do," Hotch said. He thumbed the file and touched the edge Reid's neatly-typed exposition of the exact nature of his relationship with Agent Jareau. It was twenty pages long, single-spaced, and had footnotes and a long list of supporting materials and references. It was clinical and cold, and devoid of any emotion, pretty much how Reid had been since he had read her complaint against him. 

“You and I both know he’s never treated me the same since I rejected him romantically," JJ insisted. 

"Agent Jareau, I would like to advise you that if you cannot stay focused and answer the questions presented to you, I will have no choice but to ask another supervisory agent to complete this interview.”

"You know it's true. Reid doesn't like me because I rejected him after our date." 

“Date? Is that what you think that was?" Hotch felt his voice drop, and he hated the malevolence that rippled through his tone. He didn't mean to sound unkind, but what he said came out bitter and dark, like burnt coffee. "Was it in 2004 or 2005? Eight or nine years ago, Gideon gave Reid two football tickets for his birthday, and then pressured him into asking you to go along. After the game, Reid asked you if you wanted to go to more games. You told him no. He inferred correctly that you were not interested in him romantically, and inferred incorrectly that you could not attend football games with someone you weren't dating. He understood what you had said, and he obeyed your request. He made no further attempt to pursue you romantically. Since your one, single, solitary, quote-unquote date, Reid has conducted other relationships, dated other people. Reid is now married, and in a long-term relationship. I'd say that means he took your rejection pretty well, wouldn't you? Those are hardly the actions of someone who was secretly pining away for you for eight or nine years."

"Of course you'd think that," JJ flamed up with anger and disgust. Hotch almost regretted the words. Almost. 

"Agent Jareau, perhaps we had both better stay focused. What was the most rewarding aspect of your job? What was the least rewarding aspect of your job?”

“The most rewarding aspect of my job was helping people. The least rewarding aspect of my job was having to fight with chauvinist co-workers and supervisors who don’t trust me because I’m female. They expect me to take a subordinate role in the office and in the field based solely on my gender.”

“ ‘…based solely on her gender…’ “ Hotch whispered as he continued to write. “Next question. Do you feel that your working environment was in any way hostile or discriminatory?” 

“Yes, and yes,” JJ sneered again. 

“If yes, list individual situations or circumstances below. Please be as detailed as possible,” Hotch ground out the words. 

“Why don’t we start with the fact I’m paid less than half what the male agents are paid?" JJ asked, then paused. 

“Keep talking. I’m writing,” Hotch invited. 

“We work the same job. Why don’t I make as much as they do?” 

“ ‘Agent is displeased that she is paid less than male co-workers’. Are there any other situations or circumstances you wish for me to list?” 

“Aren’t you going to respond to the first one?” 

“As I said before, I’m not supposed to respond. I’m supposed to record your responses, should I say grievances, and report them to my supervisor, who will then discuss them with her supervisor, who will then decide what further actions need to be taken,” Hotch remarked, his eyes darkening with growing annoyance. 

“You can’t respond because you know you can't defend what has been going on. It's a clear-cut case of sexual discrimination. Let’s take Dr. Reid, for example.” 

Hotch bristled. He couldn’t help it. JJ took a breath and continued ranting. 

“We graduated from the Academy within a year of each other, me first. From the minute he was recruited by Agent Gideon, Dr. Reid has been given any number of special dispensations in order to qualify for field work. On the other hand, I passed all the physical qualifications without any special dispensations. I passed my firearms certification top of the class, and I have passed every recertification on the first try. I have passed every physical training requirement. He hasn't passed any."

"You're absolutely correct. Reid has been given special dispensation when it comes to physical requirements."

"See! You actually admit it!"

"Dr. Reid has a documented physical impairment due to his Asperger's Syndrome. At Agent Gideon's behest, when Reid applied to the Academy, he submitted his doctor's statement concerning his lack of physical coordination and difficulty with gross motor skills. The Bureau doctors examined him as well to confirm what his personal doctor had said. Reid's medical condition was indeed taken into consideration when he took the physical graduation exams, as directed by law under the Americans with Disabilities Act. As for his current medical physical impairment...." 

"Anything in the field and in the office that Reid can do, I can do better."

"You'd clearly like to think so," Hotch rumbled. 

"I can chase and corral suspects. I can interview witnesses and suspects. I can get confessions. I can track leads. I can close cases. Yet I know for a fact that Dr. Reid makes twice what I make while holding the same position that I hold," JJ blurted, eyes flashing. 

“Agent Jareau, you actually do not hold the same position as Dr. Reid. But don’t let me interrupt you. Keep going. I’m writing,” Hotch ground out the words. 

“What do you mean we don’t hold the same position?” JJ flinched and a tight grimace crossed her face. 

“Even taking into account the time he spent in Cryptology, and the time that you spent with the State Department, Reid has almost a decade more experience as a profiler than you have. Profiler -- a job which does not require an agent to carry a gun, or tackle suspects, or kick down doors, or be a martial arts expert. It requires expertise and work experience in fields related to solving crimes -- deduction, familiarity with crime statistics, understanding correlations between cases, applied forensics. Agent Jareau, as I said before, I’m not here to refute the answers you give to these questions. I'm here to write down your responses.”

“Everyone knows for a fact that the only reason Dr. Reid is back is because you reinstated him.” 

“Actually, Dr. Lind reinstated Dr. Reid." 

"Dr. Reid is given special treatment all the time, and you know it. You got him reinstated before his medical doctor said he would be ready, before his physical therapist said he would be ready, and long before his mental health therapist recommended. She was hesitant about signing off on his return, but you convinced her to do so. She's concerned Reid has got post-traumatic stress disorder, and that he's going to have a mental collapse if he's put under too much stress. But you and Dr. Lind decided to put him back out in the field anyway, endangering other agents and the public at large." 

"Are you finished?" 

"No, there's more. There's a lot more!" JJ spat venomously. 

"Agent Jareau, are you going to give actual answers to these questions, or is this going to continue to be nothing more than a personal diatribe against Dr. Reid?” 

“Reid is back in this job because you pulled strings to get him reinstated, because you’re in a relationship. You give him special treatment all the time. You favor male agents over female agents, and you favor Reid over everyone else. You always have. You always will.”

“ ‘Agent feels her co-worker Dr. Spencer Reid is receiving special treatment based on his relationship with the unit chief’. Okay. Anything you’d like to add?” Hotch asked, grinding his teeth again. 

“Everything was fine when my job was to be in the office, making copies, choosing cases for the team, and handling the press. Being your Girl Friday. But the second I became a profiler, you starting working against me, holding me back, and keeping me down. You’re afraid I’ll show Reid or Morgan up. You’re afraid I’ll prove I’m better than they are. Emily warned me you would hold me back. I should have listened to her. You’ve never given me a chance to prove myself. You didn’t want Emily here when she first started either. You fought against Strauss adding her to the team, and in the end, you had no choice about it. When I became a profiler, you treated me the same way you treated Emily, and the same way you treated Elle Greenaway. You worked against us because we’re female."

“Agent Jareau, I have done my level best to treat all my agents with equal measure, regardless of their gender,” Hotch responded hotly. 

“Oh, like you’ve been so equal with Reid? I can’t count the mistakes he’s made! Let's talk about how many times you've covered for him over the years!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Hotch shouted. “Would you like to turn off the recorder?” 

“What?” JJ huffed. 

“The right inside pocket of your jacket. It’s hanging half an inch lower than the left side. Since you came in my office, you've kept your arms crossed over the front in order to cover the bulge below your right breast. You keep trying to bait me into an argument. Maybe you've been advised by legal counsel to see if you can get me on tape making incriminating statements?"

"There's nothing in my pocket." 

"We have two choices. We can either pretend it’s not there. Or you can reach in and turn off the machine.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ blanched. 

“Very well. Suit yourself."

Hotch waited quietly, staring at JJ. She fidgeted around, moving left, right, back again, never lowering her arms. 

"You want to keep recording? That's fine by me. I'll be blunt and very specific, so there won't be any misunderstandings about what I'm saying. Every unit chief in this organization has covered for his or her subordinate agents when they have needed help or guidance. Mentoring younger agents is part of the job for a veteran in the Bureau. In the two years that you have been a profiler, Agent Jareau, you have made mistakes – serious mistakes. You’ve bullied suspects and witnesses alike. You've interrupted interrogations being conducted by senior personnel because you were arrogant enough to believe you were the only one who could get an unsub to confess. You have surrendered your weapon in dangerous situations, putting yourself at risk unnecessarily out of some insane desire to prove your physical combat skills. You kicked Agent Torgeson in the face, and nearly got yourself killed on the Neddig case. You corrupted evidence by touching it with your bare hands, when we were conducting the investigation into the nanny and child abductions. You know what? Even after making these mistakes and others, you're still on the job. Do you know why? All agents make mistakes. The secret is to learn from your mistakes and not to repeat them.”

“I could list Reid’s mistakes too.” 

“I’m sure you could. You've spent three days putting off this interview, apparently in order to be well-versed in everything about Dr. Reid. I can't help but wonder at the source of all this confidential information."

"What exactly are you implying, Agent Hotchner?" 

"I know good and well you didn't develop an eidetic memory in the last week. Dr. Reid's personnel file was taken from my desk on Tuesday, and mysteriously reappeared this morning. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how serious it is when a sensitive employment file goes missing."

"Are you implying that I took Dr. Reid's file from your desk? That's a baseless accusation. You don't have a stitch of proof." 

"I'm not implying anything, Agent Jareau. You mentioned qualifications before? Let’s talk qualifications. You have a communications Bachelors degree from the University of Pittsburgh, and you’ve taken classes at Georgetown University. I know your abilities. It’s my job, as unit chief, to know what every member of my team can do.”

“I’ve taken other courses since I graduated from UPitt.” 

“Yes. You took two courses in profiling over the summer between your time in with the State Department and your return to the BAU. You’ve also taken self defense courses with Morgan. You excelled in your course work. Everyone praised you for a job well done. That’s terrific! Gold star for you! It’s not enough though. Agent Jareau, BAU profilers are required to carry at the very least a four-year degree in their particular area of expertise. That means if you’re going to remain a criminal profiler, you need a four-year degree in a field that relates to the profiling job. Two summer courses – that’s a good start, but it doesn’t guarantee you a permanent spot on this team. No exceptions – all agents are required to hold a degree which relates to this job—psychology, sociology, criminology, ballistics, linguistics, criminal law, forensic investigation, and so forth.”

“What are you saying? Communications isn’t a good enough degree?” 

“It's an acceptable degree if you plan to work in communications, but not if you plan to work as a profiler." 

“I’m not going back to being a media liaison!” 

“No one is asking you to. But if you want to continue as a profiler, you need to get a degree that relates to profiling. Dr. Reid earns twice what you earn because he brings more to the table than you currently bring. He’s got three doctorate degrees and two undergraduate degrees, all in fields of study which support the position that he holds. He brings more practical experience and education to the position than you bring. That is why Dr. Reid makes more than you make.”

“You can’t see the truth because of your white male bias. You need to check your privilege. You're holding me back because you hate women, especially strong women like me.” 

“You need to stop quoting twelve-year-old social bloggers on Tumblr. Male or female, no agent is going to step into a new job and make the same amount right off the bat as someone who has been there longer and who has more qualifications.”

“You can’t admit it’s because I’m female. You can't see past your privilege. You've got your head so far up Reid's ass, you can't see daylight.” 

“This has nothing to do with the fact you’re a woman! It has to do with the fact that Reid has more qualifications than you have, and he’s had more experience, and to be quite frank, he has more innate skills for the job.” 

“I’ve been on the job as long as he has! We should earn the same amount!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve both been here, but you haven’t held the same job. You and Dr. Reid have vastly different skill sets. You spent how many years as a media liaison? You were a special agent, yes, but you were support staff. That’s not the same thing as being a supervisory special agent."

"I'm a supervisory special agent now!"

"Yes, now. You’ve been a supervisory special agent for a little over two years. When you have been a supervisory special agent as long as Dr. Reid has, and you carry the same qualification that he carries, you will make what Dr. Reid makes. Am I getting through to you? The Bureau pay scale is based on qualifications and work experience, job performance reviews, and stepped increases. This has nothing to do with your gender. You can certainly add to your qualifications, in order to increase your areas of expertise, and in order to increase your salary.” 

“Just because Reid has those degrees and skills, that doesn’t make him a smarter profiler than me.”

“Actually, yes, it does,” Hotch insisted. “He brings more to the table than you bring. He would earn more than you do whether he was male or female. You keep wanting to make this about Reid, but it's not about him. It's all about you, what you can do, what you can bring to your job. To remain a profiler, you are required to have an additional four-year degree which relates to profiling. If you add to your skill set, and build your job experience, you will earn more money.” 

“You expect me to go back to college, with a child and a husband and a house to maintain, while holding down a full-time job that requires me to travel on a regular basis?” JJ mocked. 

“Reid has a full-time job which requires travel, and he finds the time to continue to pursue his education.”

“He reads 20,000 words per minute! Of course he finds the fucking time!” JJ shouted angrily. 

“Agent Jareau, that’s enough,” Hotch growled back. 

“You’re blinded by male privilege. You’re biased against women. The Bureau is biased against women. It always has been, and it always will be.” 

“ ‘Agent believes her unit chief and male co-workers are sexist pigs working against her in a coordinated conspiracy to prevent her from achieving greatness in her job’.”

“That isn’t what I said,” JJ huffed.

“Isn’t it?” Hotch mused blandly. “Is there anything else you’d like to add before we call it a day?”

“It doesn’t make a bit of difference what I say. Nothing is going to change. You’ll bury it all under the rug. You won’t be punished for what’s been going on. It’s not going to make a bit of difference.” 

“ '...a bit of difference'," Hotch murmured, printing slowly and carefully. "Frankly, Agent Jareau, what needs to change here is your attitude. It's time for you to take a good hard look at yourself, and check your over-inflated ego. I don't know who has been pumping your tires, but they are seriously out of touch with the reality. I've turned a blind eye for your sake because I didn't want to hurt you, but Agent Vaccaro isn't going to do that. If you get out of line, take an attitude with her, she's going to let you know it. She will not pussyfoot around your feelings as I have done. She will fire you if you get out of line. If you don’t change your attitude and reign in your massive ego, to say nothing of your delusions of grandeur, you’re not going to be with the Bureau very much longer.”

“I don't have an attitude!" JJ shrieked. 

“I guess that's for your new boss to decide. As the saying goes, 'Nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy'. Shall we continue with the exit questions? Agent Jareau, based on your time in your position, what do you think it takes to succeed in this field office?” 

“A penis," JJ snorted darkly. 

Hotch wrote down the words, shaking his head in exasperation. 

“Do you feel you received appropriate and helpful performance reviews while in your current position?” Hotch asked. 

“No! I feel like I’ve been lied to and strung along for years. Maybe it's a big joke to you, but I do feel like I’ve been kept down. I do feel like I’ve been told to ride in the back seat because of my gender. That’s exactly how I feel. Like you’ve kept me down because you know I’m better than Reid, and better than Morgan, and you’re afraid I’ll show them up! What about Blake?!”

"What about her?" Hotch wondered. 

"She's been here a little over a year, and she already makes more than I do too!"

"She has prior experience as a field agent, fifteen more years of working experience outside of the Bureau which can be applied to the job here, and she has more advanced degrees than you do," Hotch reiterated, holding up a finger at a time. 

"She doesn't like me either," JJ sulked. 

Hotch waited, hand poised. He glanced up when JJ didn't say anything else. 

"Do you want me to write that down?" he asked. 

"Fuck you," JJ muttered under her breath. Hotch rolled along with his questions, pretending he hadn't heard her. 

“If given the option, would you return to this field office for future employment opportunities?” Hotch asked. 

“Not if you paid me in solid gold bars,” JJ snorted derisively. “Are we done here?”

“One last question. Do you have any suggestions which might improve the working environment of your current field office?” 

JJ laughed again, her voice coiling up in the corner and shaking its tail violently. 

“I could write a book,” she hissed venomously. "In fact, maybe I will."

Hotch took down her answer, put the pencil inside the folder, and put the folder down on his desk. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Agent Jareau. You’re free to go,” he said. 

JJ stood up, tidied her jacket by griping both pockets firmly, and waited. “Nothing else to say?” she scoffed.

"Yes, actually. I do have more to say. I won't mince words either. You and your legal counsel will give back every single copy you made from the private contents of Reid's confidential personnel file. I expect those pages on my desk before you leave Washington. If not, there's going to be hell to pay. If I don't get those pages back, I'm going to ask Agent Vaccaro to request them from you when you arrive in Los Angeles. Please be forewarned that I also intend to report these developments to my section chief, and to your legal counsel's supervisor as well."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't touch Reid's personnel file. I didn't even know it was missing," JJ lied, eyes darting away anxiously and back again. 

"I could be wrong. If so, I apologize profusely. But isn't it curious how much you suddenly know all about Reid's medical condition? How you're suddenly intimately familiar with his doctors' reports? I know for a fact Dr. Reid hasn't discussed these with anyone but myself and General Scott. He certainly would not have discussed these topics with you. You somehow know precisely what Dr. Reid's salary is, when it has always been the Bureau's strict policy that agents do not discuss or divulge their yearly income. You know Blake's salary too. Maybe you had a peek at her file while you were snatching Reid's file?" Hotch wondered, pulling a rubber glove out of his pocket and opening the drawer in question. He pulled out a single file, and placed it on the center of his desk. "There's one way to find out for certain, I suppose. Why don't we have his personnel file tested for fingerprints?" 

"It wouldn't prove anything if you found my prints on Reid's file. I used to distribute and file copies for this office," JJ growled. 

"True. Your fingerprints could legitimately be on the outside of the file folder. And your prints could be on copies of pages up to the point where you stopped making and filing copies for this team. But let's talk about the more recent additions to Dr. Reid's file, reports that have been added in the last two years, reports added in the last six months. Would there be any logical reason for your fingerprints to be on his most recent doctors' reports? His most recent therapist's report? You would have to have touched the paper for your prints to be there. Could be you touched the finished reports? Maybe it could be argued that you loaded the copy machine before the pages were printed?" 

"So that's what this is? Reid finally convinced you I'm in league with Strauss to bring him down? Is that it? You're buying into his paranoid conspiracy theories about how we're all out to get him?" 

"No, actually, I defended you before when the topic came up. I didn't want to believe you were capable of tearing down one of your co-workers, one of your friends, in order to advance your own career. I told Reid he was wrong about you, that you were his friend, that you would never do such a thing to him. I told him he was imagining a pact between you and Erin Strauss. Right now though, right now, I'm starting to wonder exactly what you are capable of, Agent Jareau." 

"I don't have to listen to this. I'm leaving," JJ huffed. 

“Why? Are you out of tape?” Hotch replied. JJ’s arms crossed defensively over her chest. Her left hand went down her right side and cupped her pocket again. “Take care of yourself,” Aaron added sadly. 

“Whatever. Like you give a shit,” JJ muttered as she rolled her eyes. 

“Garcia wanted to throw a party for you. I said under the circumstances that you might not be receptive to the idea.” 

"I’ve said goodbye to Penelope. The rest of you can go to Hell,” JJ snarled, stomping her way to the exit. 

“Be safe," Hotch whispered after his office door slammed closed. The blinds on his window rattled violently. Morgan looked up in concern. JJ strode past Derek without a word. She took off her jacket and tossed it into the box of personal effects from her empty office. It clanked loudly and heavily. There were little angry voices shouting at each other in the box, audible in the Bullpen to anyone close to her. JJ snatched up the box and disappeared into the open elevator. 

Hotch stared at Reid's personnel file in the middle of his desk, the untidy pages, the curled corners. He picked up a large envelope off his desk, and used the rubber glove to slide the file inside. He sealed the envelope, and with a heavy heart, he marked it confidential, and for delivery to the fingerprint analysis office. Hotch picked up JJ's exit interview folder, rolled over to his side desk, and fidgeted with the mouse to wake up the computer. His collar felt tight. He fussed with his tie, which was more constricting than usual. 

There was a soft knock on his door. Aaron turned around, and invited Morgan inside. As the door opened, he could see Rossi and Torg were attempting to inconspicuously discuss the situation in the bullpen area. Both of them looked away when Hotch met their faces. Dr. Lind and Dr. Blake were by the coffee machine, shaking their heads and looking forlornly at each other and back at Hotch. 

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Morgan asked. 

“No,” Hotch lied. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Morgan asked sympathetically. He straightened the disarrayed blinds, and faced Hotch again. 

“No, but thanks,” Hotch replied. “I appreciate it. You could hear us all the way out there, huh?” 

“Yeah. JJ’s voice carries when she’s mad. So does yours. I could talk to her if you want.” 

“Talking to JJ isn’t going to help. She’ll only take out her anger on you. She’s made up her mind about the whole situation.”

“So I heard. Has Dr. Lind said anything about the complaints that JJ filed?” 

“Not yet. I suspect the team will have to undergo sensitivity training courses. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Brass decided to transfer some of us around. By the way, JJ is supposed to send me a file before she leaves Washington. If it comes in, can you see that I get it right away?” 

“Sure. But, Hotch, isn't there something you can do? It feels so wrong, letting JJ leave like this,” Morgan begged. “Why didn’t you ask her to stay? We could have worked this all out. Rossi was more than happy to act as mediator, invite us all over, make some of his special pasta.”

"It's going to take more than Rossi's special pasta to fix this," Hotch murmured tenderly. “I offered Rossi as a neutral option, but JJ refused. Morgan, I couldn’t ask JJ to stay even if I wanted to. She was relieved of her position because of her actions in the field. She doesn’t know how close she came to criminal and civil lawsuits. Dr. Lind hoped that accepting JJ's request for a transfer would prevent any legal action against her.”

“First Emily leaves for London. Now JJ leaves for Los Angeles. It doesn't look good, does it?” 

“This is JJ’s choice. She could have stayed at Quantico, transferred to a different department here, but she wanted to go to the Los Angeles office. It’s out of my hands,” Hotch complained, opening a new word processing file on his desktop and watching the black cursor blinking on the bright white screen.

“You don’t want her back, do you?” Morgan whispered. 

“Frankly, no.”

“I wish……” Morgan said, his voice trailing off. “I wish things could be like they used to be, when we were a real family.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Hotch nodded. 

“Prentiss might be able to talk sense into JJ. Make her reconsider this move,” Morgan suggested. 

Hotch snorted quietly. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

“Why? Did you work that angle already? How did it go? What did Prentiss say?” 

“She said it’s all my fault, of course. I had to cover Jack’s ears and walk him out of the room when I listened to her message on the answering machine.” 

“So maybe that’s not the best approach after all.”

“Probably not. What about Garcia?”

“What about her?”

“Could she talk to JJ? Is Garcia talking to you? We all know that I’m a sexist pig. Have you been damned as well?” Hotch wondered. 

“The jury is out on that. I left Baby Girl a couple messages this morning. She hasn’t replied. It’s only been half an hour though, so I’m not going to take it personally yet.”

“Can I offer a word of advice?”

“Sure.”

“When she does talk to you, don’t call her Baby Girl. That might be a good place to start,” Hotch suggested gently. 

“Valid point,” Morgan agreed. 

Aaron started clacking the keys. He paused again though. 

“Is Reid back from his firearms recertification test yet?” Hotch wondered as Morgan headed towards the exit.

“Nope. Think he’ll pass?” Morgan wondered as he paused on one foot. 

“I hope so,” Hotch sighed. 

Morgan smiled and closed the door behind himself. Hotch faced the computer again, and resumed his typing.

**Author's Note:**

> Helpful links used in research:  
> https://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cirg/investigations-and-operations-support/briu  
> https://www.fbijobs.gov/special-agents  
> https://www.fbijobs.gov/eligibility
> 
> You are welcome to draw your own conclusions about the eligibility of any of the BAU team members, if they existed in the real world.


End file.
